#copia and reader

[jessicafangirl]

Just A Little Thing - A Copia/You Ficlet

I'm enjoying these Copia and you fics. Here's a fluffy wuffy one talking about how you and Copia came to be more than friends...or the stirrings of it. I promise part two of The Birthday Gift is on its way as are the others I'm working on. But this little idea came to me and I had to write it.

You can read here or also at AO3

You had to buy it for him. It was just too perfect. Drat Vader, a little plastic doodad of a rat in a Darth Vader helmet. It was even flocked. He was holding a tiny light saber in one hand and a piece of Swiss in the other. It screamed loudly Copia in every language known to man.

You hadn’t seen him in a few weeks as he was on tour. It was the big one, the one ending in LA for a two-night stay. You’d finally got the time to come to a stop and so you were going to see him and the gang in Vegas. Sin City may not be ready for a group of rowdy ghouls and a Papa like Copia, but it promised to be an insane time.

Copia had pulled rank and said they all deserved a rest after this show. They’d been going nonstop for a few months. So after the ritual it was a play day for everyone. When you arrived it was nearly the end of the performance sadly thanks to a flight delay. But it didn’t matter, you watched the man who had become your best friend give it his all to the crowd.

Ashley saw you and came bounding over giving you a hug. “Thank god you are here. He’s been even moodier than usual.” She said, exasperation evident in her voice.

You squeezed her and after the hug you asked her. “What’s been going on?”

“He’s the same Copia but when you aren’t around, he’s just…more broody. Also he’s been on edge lately. Just…I’m happy you are here.” Ashley gave you a smile and headed off to check the next wardrobe change.

You looked worriedly out to the stage where Copia was making the asses wobble with Kiss The Goat. Ashley’s words echoed in your head. You worried about your friend. Copia was always walking a fine line in his own head. Sometimes the anxiety would win. And those times you were glad you could help him take his mind off things or listen while he vented what was wrong. Hopefully your presence wouldn’t make things worse but better like Ashely had said. Whatever you could do and maybe Drat Vader would make him laugh.

You watched and listened as Dance Macabre started. It was your favorite, and you knew Copia would kill as he always did with it. It was amazing as expected, and Copia was a blur of sky-blue sequins on the stage from where you could see. He always gave everything on that stage. You’d seen the proof before. He’d be exhausted and drained and you’d try your best to get him back to normal. Sometimes it was more difficult than others.

When the song started coming to an end you knew that the encore was over. You quickly moved to a corner out of the way as the applause and cheers echoed from the venue like thunder.

The Ghouls came in first heading to their area to collapse and recover from the show. They were chattering away, and you grinned as you watched them, hearing them talk about hitting the casinos hard tonight and the challenge of an all-you-can-eat buffet.

Some poor Chinese restaurant was going to be put out of business this evening you had a feeling.

You heard Copia before you saw him. He came into the backstage area, and you saw Ashley quickly move to help take his Encore Jacket off to store it safely for cleaning. “Good show yeah? You think? It felt like a good show.” He was saying to her.

“Very good show.” Ashley replied, shaking her head at how someone who just got a massive standing ovation could still doubt their performance the way Copia could.

The Papa turned and sat down heavily at the dressing vanity, staring into his own mismatched eyes. The face paint was starting to get a little faded. Out of habit he added a bit more powder to the white while noticing another bit of grey at his temples. His lips thinned at the sight.

“Maybe I should follow at least one example Terzito set, eh? Dye the hair and flip off time.” He muttered to his reflection. He was feeling every one of those grey hairs this night. He was glad he had decided to give a rest day to everyone, including himself. He loved being Papa, he loved the stage which is why he gave it his all every night. But when you feel like there is nothing left of yourself for yourself…it was time to take back some of it.

Copia’s thoughts wandered, of course going to you. He missed you. The tour would be far easier if you were around to keep him grounded, which seemed to be more your job than assisting with the publicity team. If you were here, he could take you to Madame Tussaud’s and together you could pose suggestively with the statues or get ridiculous with them. Go to Circus Circus and watch the acts. A voice in his head said very quietly “Get married by an Elvis Presley lookalike and spend the honeymoon night in a suite with a heart shaped hot tub.”

Copia’s eyes widened at that thought as it scurried away into the recesses of his brain. Where had that even come from? Dark Lord…that was…not appropriate. Nor was the fluttering in his chest at the imagined picture of you wearing a black bridal veil looking stunning in a lacey black dress while he slipped a band on your finger while the ghouls all cheered as they witnessed it. The fluttering spread to every part of his body…and apparently the blood flow also followed it as the image of pulling you into his arms and kissing you filled his vision. Bending you backwards and cradling you in his embrace, officially his…propriety be damned. You’d taste like cherries and sugar…

The Papa shook his head vigorously. This was how tired he was…thoughts like this had been bothering him so often of late. You were his bellissimo amico. Not his paramour, not his amante. You were his friend, and he had no right to think of you in that way and Satanus knew how you’d react if you found out he was even having these…daydreams? Thoughts? He’d lose you no doubt…you’d run away with every right to, and he’d lose one of the best, most precious friends he’d ever had. That he could not bear. Copia closed his eyes, head falling forward and sighed heavily.

Ashley sat his silver cup next to him, causing him to look up. This time he could smell the bit of whiskey mixed in with the tea and lemon. “Satan bless you.” He said as she patted his shoulder.

“I think you might want to turn around.” She said grinning and then headed off to double check the packing of the gear.

Copia glanced in her direction, perplexed and then turned around in his chair.

When his eyes met yours, you waved. “Hey, uh..surprise!” As you watched Copia’s gaze widened in a mix of disbelief and shock.

Copia stood, uncertain if he was dreaming. “Cara?? You…you’re here??” he quickly put his cup down on the vanity and practically skipped over to you, no longer as sore from the concert. He threw his arms around you, nearly spinning you in a circle.

“Aaaa!!” You let out a happy shriek as he squeezed your ribs into pieces. “Yes! Yes I’m here you lunatic.” You laughed.

Copia stopped dancing you in a circle but didn’t let go. He was grinning from ear to ear. “Si, you do drive me crazy dolcezza but in a good way.” His eyes, though still tired, were sparkling with more life than before. “You surprise me when I most need it, Grazie.”

You searched his face, seeing the exhaustion that was creeping in. You reached up and touched his painted cheek lightly. “You look tired Papa.”

Copia grabbed your hand, holding it in his gloved one. “I’ve told you before cara, when it is you and I, I’m simply Copia.” He placed a quick kiss to your knuckles, and then sighed, keeping hold of your hand and leading you both to the velvet covered couch in the corner.

You both sat down, Copia grabbing his silver cup of more whiskey than tea. Ashley was serious about him resting or simply collapsing based on the mix. “Si, I am tired. This has been a long tour and…it feels as though…well…” He took a drink, letting the burn flow down his throat into his chest.

“What’s on your mind Copia?” You asked him, watching as he stared into nothingness for a moment.

He looked over at you, your eyes so open, so kind. You’d come all this way just for him. Those thoughts from before came unbidden again and his gloved fingers flexed where they rested on the black velvet cushion. He sighed heavily. “It feels like…something…big…is coming. I don’t know cara…I just have a sense of something on the horizon.”

You’re brows narrowed in concern. You touched his black sleeved arm. “Something good or something bad? You’ve always been a little psychic Copi.” You asked him.

Copia felt the warmth of your touch through the soft fabric of his shirt. It helped to settle him a bit. “I don’t know tesoro. Eh, I’m not that good of a psychic.” He laughed softly. “If I was, we are in the right town si?”

You shook your head. He was trying to get you to not worry but it was too late for that. “Copi…wait…is that like 100 percent whiskey your drinking?” You asked, the scent hitting you suddenly.

Copia glanced down and gave a slight chuckle. “I think Ashley got a little bit too excited about the…is this, Jack Daniels?”

You took the cup from him and took a sip, eyes bugging out of your head. “cough…Yeah…that’s…cough….Jack Daniels. I think she gave you most of a bottle.”

The Papa chuckled. “I think she’s trying to help me sleep. I…I’ve not been able to rest well for…well…the last few weeks.” His voice grew softer as he spoke, the exhaustion leeching into the words.

You winced at the sound, a sharp little pain hitting your heart. “Well tonight you’ll get some sleep, or be in an alcoholic coma if Ashley has any say apparently.” You put your arm around his shoulders and gave him a brief squeeze.

Copia sighed, letting the scent of your perfume fill his lungs, the warmth of your embrace settle into his bones. Just this and he could feel the anxiety running away along with the worries of the last few weeks. He wanted to rest his head against your shoulder, pull you into his arms and lay back on the couch for a long nap. But that was another of those daydreams and he would not lose you to his own flights of fancy.

You remembered your gift suddenly. “Oh I almost forgot!” You said and stood, moving to where you had left you backpack.

Copia nearly fell over onto the couch he’d been leaning so close to you. He caught himself before he could become a complete embarrassment. He missed your warmth immediately. “What…what did you forget?” He managed to ask, taking another drink of Ashley’s concoction.

“I got you a gift. I think it might make you feel better about things….or at least laugh.” You pulled the small gift bag out of your backpack and headed back over to the couch.

“You already make me feel better cara.” He said watching you settle back next to him, his eyes glinting with the sheen of exhaustion mixed with affection and a little whiskey. “You’re the only gift I need il mio bel regalo.”

“Whatever you said, just hush and open it. I hope you like it.” You handed him the little gift bag, the same color as his favorite concert jacket, a dazzling blue.

Copia smiled, setting his drink on the table. He carefully pulled out the tissue paper and unwrapped the little lumpy figure inside. When he saw the little Dark Side rat his heart felt as if it had grown too big for his chest. “Dolcezza…he’s…he’s…”

“He’s a buddy for the road…he’ll watch out for you when I’m not around with his special Sith Cheese powers. Drat Vader will take on all comers.” You told him, watching his face as he studied the little rodent.

Copia felt tears pricking his eyes. Of course she would pick something this perfect…would know him this well. “Sith…Cheese.” He repeated smiling.

You bit your lower lip, still unsure. “I know it’s just a little thing…but he seemed like he needed a home…I hope you like him.”

The Papa turned to look at you a grin on his painted lips. His expression was wistful and almost disbelieving. “Like him? I love him tesoro. He’s perfect, just like you.”

You blushed, not able to stop it. The way he was looking at you and the compliments…it made a little shiver in your chest. You needed to be careful. You’d really missed Copia in the days he’d been gone. You were realizing just how much you’d come to rely on him to not feel alone, to talk to. He was everyone’s Papa in the ministry and while you weren’t a church member…you knew what that meant. He was shared to all who needed him…you weren’t special.

One time you’d said this to him when you’d had a particularly bad day regarding your crazy family. A phone call had set you off and you’d called out sick for the rest of the day, heading back to your quarters and curling up in a ball. Sometimes it could get a little much.

As was his special super power, Copia somehow knew you were MIA. Phil must have told him you’d left because an hour or so into your crying jag there was a gentle knock at your door followed by a softly accented voice asking “Cara, it is me…can I come in?”

He’d have stood out there all day if you hadn’t let him in. You knew Copia…he was stubborn. When you opened the door, he was standing there in a blue velvet tracksuit with a probably vintage Black Sabbath shirt, sans his papal paints. His darkly circled eyes found yours, red and puffy from crying. His face immediately looked stricken. “Oh…tesoro…I am too late to stop the tears.” He swept you into his arms, hugging you tightly. “I am here now though…no going anywhere cara.”

Still holding you he pulled away to tilt your chin up to meet his eyes. “I have ice cream, Ben and Jerry’s and Chopping Mall on DVD. You are going to have chocolate and schlocky goodness with me, si?”

You’d shaken your head. “I’ll…I’ll be okay.” He didn’t need to drop everything for you like this. You’d sniffled, hating how it could hit you so hard after so long. “You’re Papa and you have a whole flock of people that you have to take care of.”

He’d given you the strangest look then, grasping your chin once more. “I told you before cara…for you I’m Copia, always. And you are il mio adorabile amico. And I take care of my friends because…well…they are rare gifts the dark lord has bestowed on me. And you are one of the most treasured I have. If I neglected you cara, Lucifer would kick my balls…he’s got hoofs…it would hurt. And he’d be right to do so.”

You laughed, not able to help it. He already could do that with just a stupid joke and a hug. He’d caught your eye again, smiling. “Eh! I heard a laugh. See…you can’t send me away now. It’s the rules…I get you to laugh you have to watch a movie where robots murder teenagers in a mall.”

“That’s a very specific rule Papa.” You’d replied.

“Bah, I told you…Copia for you…you have special…access.” He’d tried to figure a word for it, but access actually sounded sort of…dirty now that he thought of it.

“Oh, special access? What does that entail?” You’d asked him batting your eyes playfully.

Copia had to pause a moment at that. Oh…that…that was not an appropriate response, and he would not voice what had gone through his head. “Eh, don’t you worry about it…just…know you got it.”

For a moment you paused and then nearly toppled him with a hug. You couldn’t help it; he was just so Copia. Sweet, caring, fiercely protective and right then he smelled really good and was cuddly as hell in the tracksuit. He was like your own sky-blue satanic teddy bear.

“What is all this…eh?” Copia managed to stutter out, surprised by the hug but it was not unwelcome. He wrapped his arms around you and squeezed.

“Thank you for my special access.” You muttered against his shoulder. “You’re…you’re my best friend…just thank you.”

You couldn’t see it at the time, but Copia’s eyes had grown watery, tears swimming in the green and white of his gaze. No one had ever said what you had to him just then. Never best friend, maybe rarely friend. But never this. He closed his eyes, one single tear breaking free from beneath his black painted lid. It smeared his cardinal paints slightly, just the slightest trail. He quickly wiped it away with a gloved finger, not wanting you to see what a silly old fool he was.

“Prego cara mia.” He said softly, almost a whisper because he didn’t trust his voice not to break just a little. “E mio onore.”

The memory was bittersweet. The time spent with Copia, stuffing yourselves with New York Super Fudge and watching the 80s literally play out on screen was so sweet. You felt like a teenager again. But the bitter was there. The screaming of your sister over the phone about how you were going to burn in hell…you could nearly smell the beer on her breath through the receiver.

You wouldn’t think about that now though. Copia was here in the present. He and the ghouls and Phil were your little tribe now. “I’m far from perfect Copia, but Drat Vader is.” You told him grinning.

Copia shook his head. “Bah, you are perfecto. You know me too well cara. I am glad you are here and now I have a little buddy for the bus to keep me company…it will make the time away from the bambinos easier.”

“Oh the babies say hello by the way.” You told him, having been checking on them while he was gone. You pulled out your phone and quickly pulled up the couple of pictures you took before leaving. “Phil promised to take care of them.”

Copia smiled at his little babies. Rigatoni was shoving his furry face into the camera. He glanced over at you, seeing your eyes reflect just as much love for the little rascals as he felt. It made a sweet little pain hit his chest. He sighed. “They look as mischievous as ever.”

“Oh they are…you never told me how much an escape artist Rigatoni is. I had to add a lock to the door.” You put your phone away, shaking your head.

“That’s on me…” Copia said nodding. “He’s my Houdini. He’ll hate the lock…eh, he’ll probably have it figured out in a day.” The Papa already felt better than before…and also maybe a little drunk since he hadn’t eaten prior to the show and had been drinking down the whiskey laced with tea for a few minutes. He glanced over at you and smiled loopily. “I’m glad you are here dolcezza. Grazie for this.”

“Grazie for what?” You asked smiling, eyes meeting his heterochromatic stare. He looked sleepy and a little plastered. You didn’t know if you’d ever seen Copia drunk before…that would be an adventure.

He waved one gloved hand around in a shaky circle. “This…all of this. You coming to see me. Il mio piccolo Sith Lord. Just…you. Grazie.” Copia’s voice light and the words only a little slurred.

He then leaned over to kiss your cheek, but you didn’t know he was going to and when his lips connected it wasn’t with your cheek but the corner of your mouth. You stilled, a shock of heat going up your spine as his warm, sweet whiskey scented kiss pressed against you. You froze, a little squeak of surprise in your throat.

Copia pulled away almost immediately, the flush of his blushing visible even through the face paint and definitely on the slightly pointed tips of his ears. “Mi dispaci…I…my aim…it was…off.” He stuttered, trying to forget quickly how soft your lips were and how they’d felt even for that brief moment. The booze was affecting him…that’s what it was…not the fact he’d just kissed you…a real kiss…and it had made his heart stop for that moment.

You hoped your face wasn’t on fire…oh god…please don’t make me look like a strawberry. “No…no worries…it’s okay.” You laughed nervously, trying to forget that spark of heat that had flooded your entire body.

Copia felt like a louse. This was exactly what he shouldn’t be doing. He would scare you off…you who had been this kind to him…and he was being un fottuto idiota. He glanced to you once more and noticed he’d left a black mark behind from his ill aimed kiss.

“Perdonami,” he said softly and reached over with his gloved thumb and very gently wiped away the evidence of his lips on yours. His gaze was caught in yours as he did, trapped and he found happily so. Oh…this was…not…appropriate.

“Okay Papa, time to change.” Ashley bounded back just in time. “I need these ready for cleaning. Your clothes are laid out behind the curtain.

Copia quickly turned at her arrival. You felt like you were just shaken from a dream, what was going on? Why were you leaning towards him like that? Why was he leaning towards you like that? Oh…not…not appropriate.

“Ah, grazie Ashley.” Copia managed to say, sitting up quickly. He turned back to you. “A few minutes cara, then we go and get something to eat, si?”

You nodded still dazed a bit.

Copia headed behind the dressing area’s divider and took a breath. Ashley had lain out his red track suit this time and a Scorpion’s t-shirt with his dress shoes. Good choices. He found himself leaning heavily against the black wall, his head falling back and gazing up at the cavernous ceiling of the venue.

What was happening? He couldn’t…he couldn’t be…this was…you would never… He thunked the back of head against the wall a half-hearted attempt to knock the thoughts away he was having. Instead he just hurt himself and winced, “Eehhh…” he muttered, rubbing his now sore head.

Without thinking Copia brought his gloved thumb to his lips, licking away the mix of his paints and your lipstick. He closed his eyes and sighed at the taste combined on his tongue, sweeter than any whiskey or honey. “Amore…” He whispered softly to himself, realizing there was no fighting this any longer. “Please…please don’t run away.”

[mx-pastelwriting]

Saving My Fanfiction Work

First. Side note: This post was only intended to give resources to fanfiction writers and enjoyers. My talk on recent political events was a context/reasoning on why I made this post. Also I’ve had to add more information to this post over time due to people’s confusion in my comments. Explaining it was to make sure that this post didn’t come off as out of the blue for my followers and this community. Which is fanfiction.

Also, why I made this post was from people asking if they could download my fanfiction because of the recent political events in America hence why I named it “saving my fanfiction work” and added my context. So this was also a post to tell people that liked my fanfiction they could download it as long as it was for their personal collection. I merely just wanted to list resources to people who wanted to download fanfiction and don’t know where to start or don’t have the immediate resources. I’m not here to fear-monger. I am just giving resources and the reasoning on why I’m giving them along with urging people to look into those information/recent events as staying aware is important. I respect everybody who’s given their opinion and yes, some of my grammar in this post is not adequate as this post was merely made for giving/stating resources.

Lastly, I will no longer update this post with comments as I’ve said my peace, nor will I pay attention to the notifications as they are muted. As my page is for fanfiction not politics. Thank you for the people in this community who share this post for the resources see you around the tags! Stay safe friends!!✨ Remember I love you! And you are loved!💛

-

Due to the recent events in the United States. To clarify the recent events being Trump becoming president of the United States, Project 2025 more than likely going to be integrated. If you are not familiar with Project 2025 I urge you to look it up.

Along with the KOSA bill that has many problems and it has passed the senate now needing the finally vote in the house, which both are majority red. Go here to learn more on why it needs to be stopped and how you can. This is another component that will harm our communities. Go to: stopkosa.com

With all of its harmful plans some of the plans are to take down/restrict internet sites that have LGBTQ+ communities that means communities like the fan-fiction communities/sites in the United States.

I am only giving resources to those inside and out of the US in case they banned sites that hold fan-fiction. Better safe than sorry.

Being that I live in the US the possibly of mine and many others Fanfiction has the possibly of being in danger. Therefore I'm giving you recourses. (I'm not leaving or stopping my writing, I'm here for the fight!)

For those wanting to save my fanfiction, I give you permission to download them off of AO3 and to be used for your personal collection. Meaning, your eyes only. To clarify I’m saying this as others have asked if they could download my fanfic so for those who would like to you can.

If you do not know how to download them many others on online have tutorials on how to download them and add them to our phone libraries.

Here are some links to tutorials:

Downloading Fanfic

Adding to Iphone & Android Library

Adding to Kindle Library - Video on How (On TikTok)

Adding Book Covers (At the bottom) - Good EPUB Cover Changer (I use this)

Types of Files and What they mean

Please stay safe out there! Remember to follow the rules below.

DO NOT share the downloaded file anywhere online.

DO NOT repost the downloaded file under your name.

Fanfiction is protected under copyright law when plagiarism is involved. If you plagiarize my work, either a piece or whole in any language, I will take legal action. Inspiration or the same idea does NOT apply to this, only word-for-word plagiarism in any language.

♥ mx-pastelwriting does not consent to their fanfiction being copied, copied & credited, translated, used in videos and/or audios, screenshotted, used in AI, or reposted on any other platform without permission.

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Please stay safe out there friends! I love you so much! Know that there will always people that love you and in for the fight to make sure you are loved!

And here are some resources in case you don’t feel okay! Resources here

[mothsdraw]

I love how in fanfics Copia has a grande bedroom with a queen sized bed and satanic statues and shit…when in reality he has that rinky dinky little room with an old ass sofa and retro TV

[dodgemaxson]

I LOVE USING THESE FOR ANYONE WHO WANT THEM!

[homeofthelonelywriter]

“I don’t like him.” Copia looked up from whatever papers he was reading as you burst through the doors to his office doors. His brows knitted together in confusion while you paced in front of his desk. “Whoever are you talking about, amore?” For a moment, you paused, glancing at him, before you resumed your pacing. “Perpetua, Copia. I just…” An aggravated sigh left you, and you walked over to your lover until you could lean against the side of his desk. The older man chuckled, the skin around his eyes crinkling in delight.

“Oh? Why is that?” Your eyes drifted over to Copia’s old papal garb, displayed on a mannequin in the corner of his office. While you had to admit that, as Frater Imperator, he was his best dressed yet, you missed his old outfits. The ones he wore when you fell in love with him.

“He is just…so flashy. I mean the mask and the gloves?” Copia hummed in approval, leaning back in his chair, sporting a smirk. “Yeah, and those sparkly jackets, and the hair? Don’t get me started on all the outfit changes.” By then your mind had wandered. “Yeah, exactly! Wait what?” Copia chuckled, holding his hand out for you and pulling you into his lap as soon as you laid yours in his.

“Now, amore mio, tell me why you really don’t like him, si?” You sighed in frustration, hiding your face in his neck. “He…he isn’t you. And…I know that you had to step up and be Frater Imperator, but I miss the old days. When you were just Papa.” Copia chuckled again, pulling you closer, while gently stroking your back. “I appreciate your loyalty to me, cara. But me not being Papa anymore also means that I get to spend a lot more time with you. And no matter what, I’ll always be your Papa, oki doki?” You giggled, melting against his familiar body. “Oki doki. I love you, Copia.” His soft lips pressed against your temple. “I love you too, il cuore mio. And I’ll always be right here for you. No matter what.”

A/N: Just a little blurb because I miss Copia already.

[zenith1994]

The second an x reader fanfic describes the hair and eye colour and they don't match mine

[ficandkaboodle]

It’s 9:50 at night, and I’m stuck thinking about the creak of a mattress that sounds every thrust, the heaving panting as he climbs higher and higher to the peak. Copia’s not the young man he once was but by god, he refuses to let a single mountain of pleasure go unconquered.

A hint of whimper, a gulping gasp, a trembling bottom lip, and then —

How his legs straighten as best as they can, the meat of his thighs tensing so hard there’s a tremor. Feet sliding but demanding purchase as they try and hold steadfast to the mattress, even in those ridiculous yet adorable New York rat socks he insisted on wearing. The plush of his tummy clenches and unclenches in soft, appearing huffs as waves of pleasure flow through him. And his mouth wobbles empty, emitting few things louder than a whimper.

He feels everything because everything is you: It’s your warmth that grips him, your wetness that slathers him, your scent that drives, your taste that lingers on the sweet and salty parts of his tongue.

And finally…the collapse. Uncoordinated, coupled by a grunt, a soft oof on your end, his sweaty head falling into the crook of your sweatier neck. The heat of his breathing creates a well of perspiration there.

In the daze of it all, he hoarsely apologizes. Asks if. If you’re oka-AY? His words are rumbled as the aftershocks ripple through him, his body unable to stop itself from shaking against you, digging his hips further into your own to seal the already sticky mess between you. Your pubes tangle and scratch together.

And you giggle, assuring him that ye-ES (damn, just watching him like this was enough to coax a mini orgasm out of you. He truly is unholy).

You are beyond fine.

[deakyjoe]

Arranged & Absolute

Pairing: Papa Emeritus IV/Copia x Reader (fem, afab)

Category: arranged marriage, smut

Summary: To strengthen his new position as Papa, Copia agrees to marry someone he’s never met.

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected p in v sex, desk sex, you get cum on the paperwork, vaginal fingering, grinding/dry humping, kissing, groping, arranged marriage, unspecified age gap, awkward first meeting, Sister Imperator being a supportive mother (but not because Copia doesn’t know she’s his mother), dead Papas (all of them, even Nihil), guilt, self esteem issues, parental issues, loneliness, poorly translated Italian, reader vaguely described as being shorter than Copia but nothing else, let me know if I missed anything!

Word count: 6.9k

A/N: I chose the gif specifically because he looks hot in it. This fic went from “huh maybe one day I could write about an arranged marriage thing with Copia but I don’t know what exactly yet since I don’t have any solid ideas” to “what the fuck have I done” in the space of less than 24 hours! Enjoy!

Consider buying me a coffee :)

Copia had thought it was a stupid idea. But Sister Imperator had insisted. So here he was. On his wedding day. Having never met his bride.

His foot tapped against the floor at a rapid pace, nerves radiating out of him, as he stood at the head of the chapel and watched the guests flood in to take their seats. He didn't fail to notice that almost everybody there was there for him, so many of them arriving in fact that they had to start sitting on the pews that were supposed to be reserved for your friends, family and kin. But he knew you'd travelled a long way, practically the only information he knew about you, so maybe no one from your home was willing to make the journey. Still, Copia found it sad.

Sister Imperator stood at his side, attempting to be supportive. "Calm down. The ceremony will go smoothly."

That wasn't what he was worried about. He knew the wedding itself would go smoothly, Sister would make sure of it, but everything else about it seemed all wrong. For starters, he'd never met his future wife. Which was bad enough by itself. But what if you hated him? From what he'd understood, you weren't too thrilled about the pairing either but your father had managed to convince you. Copia had met your father at least but he wasn't a particularly nice man.

When Imperator had initially come to Copia with the idea he'd laughed it off thinking it was a joke. An arranged marriage in the 21st century? And in the Satanic church where they encouraged freedom of all places? He thought it was nonsense. But then when she'd explained that a well thought out match would be put in place to strengthen his new title of Papa Emeritus IV... he started to realise that she was being serious.

He'd refused at first, saying that his position was enough. He was Papa now. And there was no taking that away, especially with his three predecessors dead and Nihil also in the grave. Who was there to question his authority? But Imperator pointed out his lack of legitimacy, he wasn't really an Emeritus, and how Papa Nihil had been reluctant to let him be the face of the clergy when he was still a mere Cardinal. Then he saw the cracks in his status.

So he agreed. A spouse would be found for him, to stand by his side and bring more power to his Papacy. He'd only allowed himself a brief second of panic when Imperator had mentioned in passing the need for an heir.

Copia looked at Sister, who had changed out of the usual skirt suit she wore and had chosen to adorn a dress in a nice green colour that suited her. Despite insisting that the whole thing was a formality, Copia appreciated her effort in making the day nice. "What if she doesn't like me?"

The older woman's face softened for a moment, how hadn't she realised that was what he was nervous about? He was a sensitive soul after all, constantly seeking approval. "She will adore you, C. Don't worry."

Copia looked down at his outfit, what if he wasn't dressed well enough? First impressions mattered after all. And the paints on his face itched more than usual. What if they started sweating off? But it was too late to dwell on that now. The last few people settled in the pews and silence descended over the chapel. It was time.

The large double doors at the back of the room swung open with a creak and the quartet in the corner started playing, what Copia believed to be, some sort of twist on the wedding march. He froze as his eyes landed on you, the reality of the situation dawning on him fully and sending him into a spiral. He was about to marry somebody he'd never met.

He tried not to let it show as you started walking towards him down the aisle, a train of lace following you. Nobody was walking you to him, ready to give you away, he noticed. Your father hadn't come to the wedding? Copia drank you in, the black wedding dress sweeping down the curves of your body and the matching veil covering your face. At least he had a moment to compose himself before he had to make eye contact with you.

You walked quickly, like you wanted to get the whole thing over and done with, and you were stood at the base of the steps in front of Copia before he could blink twice. He offered a gloved hand to you to help you up, which you took after a brief moment of staring at it through your veil. Copia squeezed it gently, hoping to offer some support and solidarity. He didn't know if it translated well.

And then you were in front of him, and the ceremony was beginning.

Imperator coughed quietly behind him. "C, the veil."

"Oh." He gasped and reached up the take the bottom of it in his fingertips, pausing for a second to allow you a moment to stop him if you wanted, before lifting it and pushing it back over your head.

The moment he met your eyes, Copia felt all oxygen leave his body. You were beautiful.

You sent him a nervous smile. "Hi."

Your voice was barely a whisper, so small and worried, that he barely heard you.

"Hi." He replied, sending a smile of his own and taking your hands in his.

Sister Imperator relaxed behind him, she could tell that he was smitten with you already. She’d chosen well.

The officiant ran through the ceremony with ease, the two of you repeating all the necessary parts when needed. Then suddenly it was over, the 'I do's' were said, rings were exchanged and Copia was a married man.

"You may kiss the bride." The officiant said.

Copia looked at you for confirmation that it was okay and when you gave a small nod of approval, he shuffled towards you and rested a gloved hand on your cheek. You leaned in first, which he was glad for as he felt as if his heart was about to beat up and out of his mouth, and met him halfway. Your lips pressed together for a second or two before the both of you pulled away with shy smiles.

The room cheered, a clear mix of real elation and dubious celebration. It wasn't a love match after all. But Copia didn't care, he had high hopes about the pairing now. You seemed nice enough and he found you breathtaking, he just hoped you could feel a fraction of the same about him. Which he feared you didn't, what could he possibly offer you?

The thoughts left him as Sister Imperator patted him on the back. "Well done, C."

"Thank you." He nodded at her before looking back towards you again.

Imperator looked at you as well. "And congratulations, it's lovely to finally meet you."

"Thank you, Sister. My father speaks very highly of you." You bowed your head at her before glancing at your new husband. "I think we're supposed to run out of here now. Like the wild newlyweds people expect to see."

Copia grinned, liking your attitude, and nodded his head in agreement. "That is exactly what people expect, shall we?”

You took the hand he offered to you and the two of you trotted down the few steps before speeding towards the doors of the chapel. People shouted words of praise and felicitations as you passed them which you could only smile at in return.

Once the both of you had burst out of the exit and the doors had swung shut behind you, a moment of peace was found. You turned to each other breathless, bashful looks gracing your faces.

“Hi.” You said, louder than the first time at the altar.

“Hi.” He repeated back to you. “You look beautiful in your dress, by the way.”

“Oh, thank you.” You looked down at the garment before looking back at him. “You look handsome too. I like your jacket.”

“This old thing?” Copia replied before wincing. Why did he make it seem like he’d worn an old jacket for his wedding?

But you didn’t seem to notice his slip up as you continued to smile at him. “What happens now?”

“I believe Sister Imperator has organised a banquet for us.” He pulled you closer to him as guests started to file out of the chapel and guided you in the direction of the ballroom.

“A banquet? That’s pretty fancy.” You chimed, looping your arm through his so the two of you could walk together.

“She pulled out all the stops.” Copia looked over at you, surprised at how well you seemed to be taking it all. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.” You glanced over your shoulder at the crowd of people that was emerging steadily. “Can we just walk a little faster? I don’t want to be bombarded by all those people just yet.”

“Sì, sì.” He increased his pace, making sure you were tightly secured to his side the whole time. “What made you agree to this marriage? I heard at first that you said no.”

“Ah.” You paused. “I did say no at first. Nothing personal against you, I promise.”

“We did not know each other. It’s okay.” He assured before letting you carry on.

“I didn’t want to marry a stranger. But I did want to escape my father. You know who he is, correct?”

Copia nodded. “I’ve met him.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sorry.” You winced. “He’s not a nice man. But holds a high position in the clergy. I’m his only child, you see. And he’s always drilled into me that I am useless because I am a daughter. What use is a daughter? I cannot be an heir and inherit anything from him.”

“That’s not true!” He gasped. “The clergy dictates that-“

You cut him off by laying a hand on his arm. “It’s not the clergy’s doing. It’s my father’s. It’s okay, I grew used to his archaic ways. Anyway he said the only good I would be was marrying me off. At first I said no because I thought he was going to marry me off to an old, ugly man who was unkind. Then he told me that you seemed sensitive when he met with you which translates to nice. And he also told me that no Emeritus has ever been ugly. I believed him. He used to keep a portrait of Papa Emeritus III before he died so I knew there was some truth in that at least.”

Copia’s stomach twisted at the reminder of Terzo’s death, a sense of guilt still ate away at him when he thought about him and his older brothers. But he didn’t let it show in front of you. “Well, I am glad that you decided to believe that I was not unkind nor ugly. However, considering you didn’t mention anything about me not being old I am going to assume that you consider me to be ancient.”

You gasped out a laugh. “I didn’t say that!”

“You didn’t need to. It was implied.” He laughed along with you as you reached the ballroom, pushing the door open to allow you to go in first. When he joined your side again, he couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his mouth as you linked your arm with his again.

“Wow.” You mumbled as you took in the expanse of the room. “You weren’t kidding when you said Sister Imperator pulled out all the stops.”

Copia led you over to the table designed for the newlywed couple. It held four chairs. One for him, one for you, one for Sister, and one meant for your father. He guessed that chair would remain empty for the evening.

You made no comment on it as you took your seat, watching your new husband closely as he sat next to you. “What about you? What made you agree to this marriage?”

He sighed deeply before looking at you. “I feared my place as Papa would be easy to shake. I didn’t inherit it officially through the Emeritus line like my predecessors. Marrying a family member of a high upper clergy member is meant to solidify my status.”

“Ah, a power play.” You nodded.

“Yes, a power play.” He frowned at that term. “But I only agreed once Sister promised she would find me a good match.”

“And what constitutes as a good match to you?” You asked, wondering what he’d requested in a wife.

A smile lit up his face. “The gorgeous woman who is sitting in front of me.”

“Smooth.” You replied, reminding yourself to interrogate him on the topic later.

Guests started flooding in, finding their seats at the various tables that filled the room. You just watched with barely concentrated attention.

You turned to Copia once the room was about three quarters of the way full. “How many of these people do you actually know?”

“I recognise most of them. I would say I probably know a third of them personally.” He shrugged. “How many do you know?”

“None of them.” You shrugged. “I didn’t have any guests come.”

“What? None of them?” He couldn’t quite believe that. He’d assumed that the people he didn’t recognise were your half of the wedding party.

“I don’t know many people back home. Those I do know… I wouldn’t want them here.” Your nose scrunched at the memory, the people you’d grown up around were not people you needed ruining what was supposed to be the happiest day of your life.

Copia looked at you sadly for a moment, wondering whether you were upset by the ordeal. But you seemed fine. “Well, now you have me.”

You looked at him, surprised, before a gentle smile settled on your face. “Now I have you.”

He returned the smile, picking up your hand and placing a soft kiss on the back of it. He mumbled an apology when he noticed the black kiss print he’d left on the skin there. You stopped him when he reached for a napkin to wipe it away, insisting he leave it there.

The moment was disrupted by Sister Imperator collapsing into the seat next to Copia. “You two seem to be getting along well.”

You exchanged a slightly giddy look with Copia before looking back at the older woman.

“We are.” He clarified. “You matched us well.”

“Knew I would.” She said smugly before looking at the empty chair next to you. “Your father did not attend.”

It was a statement more than a question.

A neutral smile settled over your lips, like you were prepared to discuss this. “No. I didn’t want him here. He didn’t want to be here. It was an easy enough decision.”

Imperator respected that response so said no more on the matter, only glancing towards the door to the kitchens where a group of servers were bustling about. “Food should be served soon. Then the day’s celebrations will be over.”

“No after party?” Copia sounded disappointed.

“That’ll be held next weekend. After all official marriage business has been taken care of. Ah, the food!” She sat up straighter in her chair as a waiter suddenly appeared and placed a plate in front of each of you.

You stared down at the appetiser salad that was about the size of your big toe. You hoped there were more courses to come. A lot more. Nevertheless, you picked up your fork and stabbed at a crunchy piece of lettuce before popping it in your mouth.

Copia did the same next to you before looking back towards Imperator again. “Official marriage business? Like what? We are married.”

She looked at him like it was obvious. “Well, you know what happens on the wedding night.”

He only looked more confused. “People getting drunk?”

Imperator rolled her eyes before practically hissing at him. "You must consummate the marriage."

Both you and Copia stopped chewing, forks being lowered to your plates with a clatter.

You swallowed the mouthful, straining slightly to force it down. "How- how soon?"

"Well, tonight preferably." Imperator said calmly. "To solidify your union."

"Sister, we've only just met." Your husband croaked.

The older woman looked at him unimpressed. "Are you trying to tell me you've never had a one night stand with someone you just met?"

"Well-" Copia choked. "That's- that's different."

"Different how?" She questioned, eyes flicking between the two of you. "Treat it like a one night stand. If it's terrible then you do not have to touch each other again. Well, until an heir is expected. But if it is good then see it as a lovely start to your marriage."

You ignored the talk of an heir, the thought of having a man you just met's baby being too much for you to handle in that moment. "Okay."

"Okay?!" Copia whirled on you, surprised you'd agreed that easily.

"Ah, beloved husband, do you find me that repulsive?" You grinned at him, only a hint of genuine worry in your voice.

"No, no. Of course not." He rushed out, thinking about how it was quite the opposite in fact. "I just did not expect you to give in so quickly."

"Give in?" You asked, eyebrows raising in question. "It might surprise you that the concept of sleeping with you does not sound so bad to me, Copia."

His heart, and cheeks, warmed at the use of his name. It was the first time you'd done so. It sounded nice coming out of your mouth. Out of his wife's mouth. "Eh, very well. We shall consummate the marriage."

"Wonderful." Sister Imperator clapped her hands together before standing up. "I shall inform the clergy of this joyous news."

The two of you watched her walk away, abandoning her salad, the knowledge that a group of old men now knew about your future sex lives playing in the back of your minds.

You shook the thought away as you scooted your chair closer to Copia's, lowering your voice for only him to hear. "You sound elated at the concept of sleeping with me."

His eyes widened as he looked at you. "Um, I uh-"

You smirked. "It's okay. We can just pretend if you'd like. They'll never know the difference."

"No, that's- we don't have to do that. Do you want to do that?" He took a deep breath. "To pretend?"

You looked him up and down. "No."

His ears and neck burned red with a flush. "Really?"

You let out a short giggle. "Yes, why is that so surprising to you?"

"Because I'm- and you're-" He gestured at your face but said no more.

You smiled softly. "Well, to me you are-" You mimicked his gesture to his face.

"Oh." He squeaked and you grinned widely at him. "But you're sure? So soon?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Although I would maybe like to see what's underneath all this paint first." You said, letting your eyes roam his face.

"Of course, of course." He babbled. "Maybe you will find yourself disappointed and change your mind."

You rolled your eyes. "Unlikely."

Copia liked your confidence in assuming you were going to find yourself attracted to his face underneath the makeup. He wasn’t so sure himself but at least you’d given his ego a slight boost.

The two of you exchanged idle conversation as more food was served, bigger portions to your relief, and the occasional guest came up to your table to wish you congratulations. You didn’t fail to notice the looks of envy that were sent your way by several people who eyed up Copia hungrily as they approached. You could only laugh to yourself, finding it even funnier that your new husband seemed to lack faith in his looks despite there clearly being a long line of people who wanted him.

A couple of hours passed by and soon enough the guests started clearing out, which you were thankful for. You couldn’t wait to take your shoes off or to ease up the laces on your dress. It had been a long day. But you knew it wasn’t over yet. The time was slowly approaching. The time when you were supposed to sleep with your new husband for the first time.

You weren’t nervous exactly. But there was still an element of apprehension deep inside you.

Once the last few people had departed and Sister Imperator had wished you both a good night, a very suggestive look on her face, you and Copia were left in an empty ballroom.

“Would you like me to give you a tour of the building now? Or in the morning?” He asked you as he took your hand in his, rubbing his gloved thumb over your knuckles.

“In the morning.” You decided. “It will give us something to look forward to. Besides, I can see that you’re tired.”

“Not too tired for you, I promise.” He sighed. “It’s just been a long day.”

“I know.” You agreed and stood up. “Let’s go to bed.”

The words weren’t suggestive in the slightest which is why Copia didn’t feel nervous as he joined your side and the two of you made your way out of the ballroom. He pointed out a few landmarks of the place as you walked in the direction of his rooms but everything went largely unexplored. It could wait for tomorrow.

Anxiety set in as you reached the corridor that led to his bedroom. What if you didn’t like his space? He was willing to change things, to accommodate, as he wanted you to feel welcome. But what if you hated it? And didn’t want to share a room, or a bed, with him. He supposed he would find you your own place to stay. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that it would make him sad.

“And these are my rooms.” He said as he pushed his door open and ushered you in. “Our rooms, if you’d like. But if not then I’m sure we can find you somewhere of your own to stay.”

You looked around as the doors were closed behind you. It was nice. Very him from what you’d gathered so far. There was a book case, overflowing with volumes, next to a desk covered in paperwork in one corner. A large bed took up almost an entire wall, four posters with a curtain hanging around it. Fancy. He had an ornate oak wardrobe teeming with sparkly jackets that poked out of the open doors, you’d have to ask him to model some of those for you at a later date.

You turned towards Copia with a timid smile. “I don’t want to intrude. This is your home.”

He rushed towards you, taking your hands in his to reassure you. “It’s your home now too. I want you to be comfortable here. Well, not right here if you don’t want. Or if you do want.”

You couldn’t express how relieved you were at how sweet he was. “I do want. For now at least.”

His face lit up. “You’ll stay here? With me?”

You nodded, matching his positivity. “Yes.”

“Wonderful, hehe.” He paused and glanced over your shoulder towards the bed. “I will go wash my face and then… then we can…”

“Consummate the marriage?” You offered with a sarcastic smile. “It’s okay, we can take it slow.”

Copia nodded before turning and disappearing into the bathroom. You took the opportunity to snoop around a little, to get a feel for your new husband some more.

In the bathroom, he washed his face meticulously, careful not to be too harsh on his skin. He wanted to look clean and fresh for you, not like a ripe tomato from being too aggressive with a washcloth.

Once he was done Copia stared at himself in the mirror, face only slightly red from where he’d scrubbed the paint away. Faint traces of black had been left around his eyes but he knew no amount of rubbing his eyes raw with a washcloth would clean it away so he left it there. His fists clenched around the edge of the basin, nerves setting in. What if you were disappointed by what was revealed to be under his paints? You said it was unlikely you would be but a part of him still worried. The day had been going smoothly, almost too smoothly, that he thought something was bound to go wrong. And what if it turned out to be his appearance.

Pushing all of that away, he realised that he wouldn’t know any of it for sure until he just went for it. So, after letting the murky grey water wash away, Copia opened the bathroom door and stepped out with an air of faux confidence that quickly dissipated.

He found you stood next to his desk, eyes scanning his book shelves as you had a good look at all of the titles. You glanced over your shoulder at him, doing a double take when you saw him. He was standing in the arch of the bathroom doorway, backlit with light that made him glow. If you weren’t a Satan worshipper you would have said he looked angelic.

Copia shifted from foot to foot as you stared at him silently. The panic was starting to set in again as you continued to say nothing. Why weren’t you saying anything? That feeling vanished when you held out a hand to him.

“Come here.” You said quietly, tipping your head back to invite him over.

He practically ran to you, taking your hand in his but still keeping his distance by a foot or so.

You closed the distance yourself, lifting your spare hand to cup the side of his face in it. “You are so beautiful.”

His shoulders relaxed, tension leaving them, as he leaned into your touch and turned his head to kiss the palm of your hand. “That is high praise coming from you.”

You shook your head playfully. “Oh, my husband’s a charmer.”

My husband. He was your husband. He liked that. “Only for you, amore mio.”

“Don’t go making promises you might not be able to keep.” You teased, warmth flooding through you at the term of endearment he’d used. “What if we hate each other?”

“I think we made a promise when we recited our vows.” He kissed your palm again before leaving one on your wrist as well, quickly making his way down your arm until it was wrapped around the back of his neck. “And I cannot imagine myself ever hating anyone as lovely as you.”

You hummed in response, not being able to form a coherent reply as his face drew nearer to yours. His free hand reached for your waist, winding his arm around you and pulling you flush against his chest. Your intertwined hands stayed connected beside you.

He looked down at you with a half smile curling the edges of his mouth. “Cat got your tongue, amore mio?”

You shook your head slowly. “Just wondering where the shy Copia of a few moments ago disappeared to.”

“Ah, well, my gorgeous wife told me I am beautiful so I decided to toss the nerves aside.” He tilted his head to the side innocently.

“Your wife sounds wise.”

“Oh, she is.” His eyes flickered downwards. “She is also driving me crazy in this dress.”

You averted your own eyes in embarrassment. “I was hoping you’d like it.”

“Oh, amore mio, I do. I really do.” Copia decided then to push towards where the night was inevitably going to end. “However, I think I’d like it even better on the floor.”

Your eyes widened at that. But you liked it. “We better get to work then because it has a lot of buttons and a lot of lace up.”

“You are in luck. I am good with that, you see.” He grinned and gestured downwards.

You followed the angle of his hands and saw that he also had a lot of lace up. Over his crotch. “I guess we can help each other then.”

“Sì.”

And with that he kissed you. It was a lot different to the one kiss you’d shared at the altar. That had been shy and slightly awkward, hundreds of people had been watching after all. But this kiss left that one behind. It was sweet and tender, just as you expected from your new husband. But it was also hungry, like he’d been waiting all day for it. Which he had.

The arm around your waist tightened as he craned his neck to meet you halfway. He tasted vaguely of the soap he’d used to clean his face but it wasn’t unpleasant. You hummed against his lips in approval which only spurred him on, his tongue now licking into your mouth. You let your hand card through his hair before sliding it down onto his cheek again, to keep his face close to yours even when you broke apart to breathe. Your connected hands swung lowly by your sides, his fingers twitching against yours and tangling them further together.

You pulled away from him, breathless, and lifted your joint hands. “Can I ask about the gloves? It’s just I noticed that you kept them on when we did the ring exchange. It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me.”

“Oh, right.” He looked down at his hand, specifically to where his new wedding ring was sitting over the top of the leather. “I don’t know really. I’ve always just liked them.”

You hesitated before answering, taking in the way he was looking at you with pure open honesty, before nodding. “Okay. Would you like to keep them on now?”

Copia shook his head rapidly. “No, I will take them off.”

“You don’t have to.” You assured, not wanting to pressure him in to anything.

“No, I will. And then you can put my ring in its rightful place on my finger. Sì?”

You nodded and stepped back a pace as he slid the gloves from his fingers. You bit back a comment about how his hands were beautiful just like the rest of him and only watched until he looked up at you again. He handed you his wedding ring and offered his left hand out to you.

“You sure? No backing out after this.” You joked.

He chuckled. “I think I signed that right away when I said ‘I do’.”

You hummed and slipped the ring onto his finger, bending down to place a kiss over it once you’d done so. “Ah, perfect. See?”

“Yes, perfect.” He whispered.

When you looked back up you found that he was looking at you. You tried not to swoon.

“Are you going to help me get my dress off now that your fingers are free from leather?” You asked to distract yourself from the way he was looking at you.

“Sì, turn around.”

You did as you were told, exposing your back to him. He unfastened all of the buttons slowly and carefully, being gentle with the fabric of your dress, before exposing the section underneath with all of the ribbons that laced up your dress.

“How long did this take you to put on this morning?” He grunted as he untied the first ribbon and loosened it.

“Too long.” You sighed. “I really needed to pee by the end of it.”

Copia huffed out a laugh, his breath fanning against the back of your neck. “All for me? Amore mio, you shouldn’t have.”

“First impressions matter.” You retorted, letting out a quiet groan of relief once the second ribbon was loosened.

He reflected back on his own thoughts of first impressions only hours previously. They did matter, he agreed. He paused when you let out another quiet groan. “Does that feel good?”

“Yes.” You sighed. “This dress may be pretty but it sure is uncomfortable.”

“Should have said something. Would have ripped it off you in the ballroom if it was going to make you comfortable.” He pulled more quickly at the next ribbon, eager to get it off you now.

“Would have been a sight for your guests.” You said over your shoulder.

“No, would have got them to leave. My naked wife is not for them to see.”

“Ah, so possessive already?” You giggled quietly.

He leaned forward and placed a kiss on the side of your neck. “Would prefer it if your body was reserved for me only, yes.”

Your eyelids fluttered shut. “It is, don’t worry.”

His hum of approval vibrated against the skin of your neck. “You’re free by the way.”

Your eyes snapped open and you turned to him again, dress falling loosely around you. You clutched at the neckline for a moment, grasping it to keep you covered. “Um, this dress doesn’t really allow for underwear. So I am actually naked underneath this.”

Copia’s eyes darkened as he glanced towards where you were pressing the fabric against your dress. “Do you want me to look away?”

“No, I was just warning you.” You clarified.

“Warning me?” He took a step closer to you, hand lifting to cover your own. “Amore mio, drop the dress. Please.”

There was only a split second of hesitation before you let go and the dress floated to the ground and created a pool of black lace at your feet. Copia tried desperately to keep his eyes on yours but the temptation was too strong. And when he looked down, there was no looking back up again.

He drank you in slowly but ravenously, eyes taking in every inch of your exposed form. When he started babbling words of appreciation to the Dark One, you couldn’t hold yourself back anymore.

“It’s only fair.” You stated before reaching for his own laces at his crotch.

Copia just batted your hand away from him, grabbing you by the shoulders and spinning the two of you around. Before you could ask what he was doing, he slid his hands down to the back of your thighs and lifted you the couple of inches onto his desk.

“Your paperwork-” You started but he cut you off.

“Don’t worry about it.” He huffed and kissed you again.

You moaned into his mouth when he started pawing at you, hands gliding over your body and squeezing at the handfuls of flesh he was finding. He seemed to be doing it more for his own enjoyment than yours. But you didn’t care, happy that he was just appreciating your body.

Your hips jumped forward when his clothed pelvis met yours, a mewl tumbling from your mouth at the friction. Copia took note of that and hooked an arm around the back of your ass and scooted you forward towards the edge of the desk.

“Did that feel good?” He asked and smiled when you nodded enthusiastically. “Hm.”

He bucked his hips towards yours again, using his hand at the small of your back to guide you closer to him and encourage your own movements. You whimpered into his mouth, desperate for more. It felt good but you needed more. You needed him.

“Copia…” You whined, hoping to get the idea across.

“I know, amore mio, I know.” He huffed, shrugging his jacket off of his shoulders. “Can you get the buttons on my shirt please?”

Your hands flew to unfasten it as quickly as possible, not questioning why he wasn’t doing it himself. Not until one of his hands drifted from your waist to your inner thigh at least. You paused momentarily, toes curling, when his thumb brushed against your clit. Watching your reactions closely, Copia did it again.

You cried out, forehead dropping to meet his chest. “Please.”

“Please what, amore mio? Tell me, hm?” He kissed the top of your head gently to encourage you, the confidence he had when performing as Papa now helping him take charge now.

“More. Please more.” You didn’t have the words to describe what you needed.

But he knew. He lifted your head with his free hand, kissing you again, before rubbing a tight circle against your clit with his thumb. The noise you made cemented what he already knew. So he did it a few more times before re-angling his hand to slide a finger inside of you.

It felt so good that you bit down on his bottom lip by accident.

“Ah, fuck, I’m sorry.” You grumbled against him.

“No apologies necessary.” He replied softly, pulling his finger back out before pumping it back in again. This time joined with a second one.

Your eyes closed in pleasure, head dropping backwards and legs circling around the backs of his.

“Amore mio, you didn’t finish with my shirt.” He reminded you in a playful tone.

Your eyes shot open again, your hands racing to get the last of the buttons undone and the garment off of him. When it was done, pushed off his shoulders, slid down his arms, his hand momentarily retracting from you to get it fully off and on the floor, you immediately leaned forward and started exploring his chest with your mouth. You kissed, you licked, you sucked, you bit, you were insatiable. Copia enjoyed your enthusiasm.

So he doubled down in his own actions, pumping his fingers into you at an even faster speed, thumb circling your clit even harder. And soon enough it had you crashing over the edge and collapsing backwards on the desk, back flattening against the piles of paperwork.

Copia licked his hand clean, sucking your essence from his skin, with a satisfied hum. He then finished undressing himself, having no trouble with his own laces, before grabbing your hips to get your attention.

You lazily lifted your head, shooting straight up when you saw what he’d been hiding between his legs. “Are all Papas this hung?”

He barked out a laugh. “Yes, it’s a requirement for the position.”

You watched as he pumped himself a few times before stepping forward and running his tip through your folds, gathering your slick to lube himself up. Your jaw hung open the whole time.

Copia rested a hand on your cheek to get your attention again. “Amore mio, are you ready?”

You nodded at him. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

He slid into you with ease, face falling to meet your shoulder as you swallowed him in. He groaned lowly at the feeling, you were so warm and wet and felt so good. You made your own desperate sounds next to his ear that he couldn’t even take a moment for himself, too eager to please you. So he pulled back out slowly before thrusting in again. Your hands flew to his back, keeping him near as your nails scratched into him. He didn’t care.

Lifting his head to see the two of you meeting between your bodies, he noticed that you were doing the same thing. He couldn’t stop himself from kissing you when you made eye contact. Thoughts ran wild through his head, wondering how’d he been lucky enough to be granted you as his mystery wife. The universe must have messed up somehow, right? No, it hadn’t. Because here you were. On your wedding night. And he was inside of you as you kissed.

The kiss made mobility difficult but neither of you wanted to pull away. Copia had an arm around your waist to keep you steady and a hand on the back of your head to keep you close. You, on the other hand, just clung onto him like your life depended on it. His hips snapped backwards and forwards at a fast pace to keep the friction going but not too harshly as to disturb the meeting of your mouths. Your tongue licked into his mouth hotly and Copia could taste the desire on you. It reflected what he already felt in himself.

“Close.” You managed to gasp out during a break for oxygen.

But Copia knew that, he could tell by the way you were clenching around him. So he didn’t switch up the pace, just kept going with what he knew felt good for you. And soon enough, he had you falling over the precipice again.

He wasn’t far behind, hips rutting forward frantically a few more times before he pulled out and spilled himself over your thighs and the stacks of paperwork you were sitting on.

You giggled tiredly at the sight and looked up at him. “It’s our wedding night and we didn’t even make it to the bed.”

He hadn’t even realised that, glancing over at his large bed with fresh sheets. “We still have time.”

The fatigue washed away at that answer. “Oh?”

Copia offered a hand out to you. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up first.”

You took his hand and hopped off the desk, following him into the bathroom where he washed your thighs off. After that, Copia led his wife to your shared bed where he planned to keep you for the foreseeable future.

A/N: me staring at the title of this fic knowing full well I already have an Obi-Wan fic titled “Absolution”. It bothers me a little but not enough to come up with a new title since this one took me almost as long to come up with as it took me to write the fic itself.

[ghostchems]

a spanking - frater imperator x female!reader

author’s note: 18+! mdni! exactly what it sounds like… thank you ghost for releasing a chapter and making me crank out 1.5k words of frater filth. ao3 link.

Frater Imperator has been increasingly irritable the closer the new tour dates and album approaches. To add fuel to the fire, he’s been waiting on his new office space to be complete and he’s currently camped out in an unoccupied room that is unequipped for his role. He's been having angry outbursts, peppered with expletives, as his frustration mounts. The shift away from being in the spotlight seems to be wearing on him particularly hard. Despite the rising tensions, the ghost project continues to progress with Frater's twin taking the lead.

The Staff are caught in the middle.

You’re a transplant from America, having fled due to the increasingly hostile environment. But now that you’re there, there is so much pressure. Most days you return to your quarters with your head spinning, unsure of how things will all tie together in time. And you feel bad for him — of course you do. Frater feels tossed aside but he *is* important and on good days, he’s a sweet man. Always asking about family and pets, how you’re feeling, if you’re enjoying the weather…

But you're starting to see another side of him lately. Change is in the air.

“Your habit is, eh, shorter today, Sister.” His gaze falls to your legs, his voice more rough than you’re used to. It pulls you from your work, collating production packets for the tour crew. Your hands immediately fall to your hem to tug it down, though you know it won’t do much. The thick fabric barely shifts an inch.

You try to keep your voice steady as you reply, "Laundry was backed up this week, Frater. This was all that was available."

He tsks, his eyes still wandering over your exposed flesh. "Come here." Frater beckons for you to come closer, his hand outstretched in a gesture that leaves no room for refusal. Despite your apprehension, your feet carry you forward until you stand before the couch he's using as a temporary workspace. His nostrils flare as he inhales deeply, and you can't help but notice how his fingers twitch against the bright yellows cushions.

“I’ve been… thinking that perhaps I need some… stress relief. Only seems fair that you help me… unwind." His voice drops an octave, sending a shiver down your spine as he pats his thigh in invitation.

A darker side had always lurked within him. When he first arrived as Cardinal, glimpses of it surfaced, though they faded as he settled into his role. But now, as his former comforts are stripped away, that cruelty and hunger for control began seeping through the cracks once more. Trapped in this temporary space with him, you feel that same darkness reaching for you.

Hesitantly, you begin to move toward his lap. How could you say no to Frater Imperator? You would be lying to yourself if you hadn’t thought about him in this way.

He shakes his head slowly, a wolfish smile spreading across his face. "No no, Sister. Across my lap." You freeze, eyes widening until his hands take you by the waist, ultimately guiding you until you're bent over his thighs. Your habit rides up further, a heavy palm resting against the small of your back to keep you in place.

"Such a pretty thing," he murmurs, more to himself than to you. His free hand traces idle patterns along your thigh, each touch making you shiver. "But you've been distracting me. Making it so hard to focus."

You bite your tongue, wanting to point out that you aren’t the cause for all of this chaos. But all the same, your heart races as you feel the press of his fingers through thin fabric. Something in his tone, in the way he holds you here, tells you there's little point in protesting. And truthfully, some part of you doesn't want to.

The leather of his gloved fingers skim the hem of your habit, pushing the fabric up to reveal black lace underwear. He exhales sharply at the sight. His palm smooths over the curve of your backside, the cool material rubbing over your flushed skin. The touch is both possessive and exploratory, making your breath catch in your throat.

"Tell me, Sister, have you been thinking about this too?"

Your throat is dry, trying to swallow and find your voice, but all that comes out is a shaky gasp as his fingers continue to explore. Your hips shift against his thigh, drawing a sinister chuckle from above. Another sharp crack of leather against skin echoes through the room as his palm connects with your already burning cheek. You cry out this time, the pain less starting than before.

"Such lovely sounds you make," he purrs, beginning to alternate between gentle, probing caresses and stinging, harsh spanks. Tears begin to sting the corners of your eyes.

“Who is your Papa?”

The question hangs in the air. You’re new, having not been around when he *was* Papa but you know better. You know not to disappoint him now, not when he quite literally has you over his knee.

"You are, Papa..."

“Good girl.”

He delivers one final resounding slap to your tender backside, the sharp sting making you gasp and arch against him. Your eyes are squeezed shut, ragged gasps falling from your lips. He coos, shushing you as he delicately runs his fingers along the edge of your underwear. You relax in his lap for a moment until he’s moving you, firmly gripping your hips to shift you upright. His strength surprises you, effectively positioning you so that you’re straddling his lap.

The evidence of his arousal is unmistakable beneath your dampened panties, his pants visibly straining between your thighs.

“You’ve been in need of some relief, haven’t you? I’ve seen you around the Ministry… always so tense, hm?” His gloved hands splay possessively across your ass cheeks again, kneading the sensitive skin that's still warm from his earlier attention. Frater guides you forward, encouraging you to gently rock your hips against him.

“*Oh*…” you groan out, clutching his shoulders as waves of pleasure crash through you. His hands directing your movements, setting a steady rhythm that’s smooth compared to the harshness of how he spanked you. His eyes have glazed over, lips parted slightly as his hands squeeze your ass tighter. You can feel every breath he takes, his chest rising and falling rapidly beneath your palms. A soft groan escapes his throat as you grind down particularly hard.

"Do you like this, Sister? Do you enjoy being used like this by your Papa?” His voice is strained with need, his eyes boring into your own.

"Y-yes... yes, Papa," you stammer breathlessly, your voice trembling with a mixture of desire and fear.

His hands slide up to grip your waist, just feeling you as you start to lose yourself. You begin to roll your hips against him, a sick kind of need filling you. His grip on you loosens, allowing you to get what you need from him without restraint. A deep, almost inhuman growl rumbles from his chest. You find your eyes start to close, your mouth dropping open in a silent moan as your thighs start to tense.

Frater’s hand suddenly has you, gloved fingers digging into your cheeks to force your eyes open. You come undone with a whimper. His hips buck up against you as he reaches his own climax with a strangled groan, the evidence of his release dampening the front of his tailored pants.

The both of you are in limbo for just a moment. Your head swims as you try to catch your breath, still straddling his lap. Your thighs quiver with aftershocks as he smooths his gloved hands over your hips in soothing circles. The room feels too warm, too close, but you can't bring yourself to move just yet, until he begins to shift you off of his lap.

"Thank you, baby. I needed that." His voice sounds lighter now, almost back to normal as he helps you stand. "Go home for the night, yes? Get some sleep. I want you back here first thing tomorrow—looking fresh and ready for our morning meeting." He flashes you that charming smile, the one that makes you forget the darkness that lurked in his eyes just moments ago.

"Yes, Frater.” You turn toward the door, legs still trembling from the evening's activities. The heat from your spanking still radiates through your body, and you're acutely aware of the wetness between your legs.

"Ah! Before you go..." He catches your wrist, stopping you. "Leave your panties with me."

A flush rises to your cheeks as you comply, hooking your thumbs under the damp lace and sliding them down your legs. The fabric catches slightly on your shoes before you manage to step out of them. Your hands tremble slightly as you place the black lace panties into his waiting palm.

His fingers curl around them possessively, and he brings them to his nose, inhaling deeply. "Such a good girl for Papa," he murmurs, tucking them into his pocket. "Now run along."

You *hurry* from his temporary office on shaky legs with a sore ass.

[jessicafangirl]

Shadow Of Eden

Well...surprise. Here's yet another story inspired by fucking Ghost and they won't leave me alone. GOD DAMN POCKET SWEDE STOP DOING THIS TO ME.

This idea came out of nowhere and I absolutely love it. This is set in an alternate reality with magic, ghosts, demons, etc. Maybe a bit of steampunk but I'm working out the world. Here the goddess Lilith was not happy with Papa Nihil's behavior towards women and she took her revenge by cursing him and his sons. The Emeritus Brothers were made into Nagas, half snake and half man. They watched over the gardens and orchards of Eden's Shadow and eventually became myths themselves. All have given up on breaking the curse and gone into hibernation except Copia, the youngest. He'd all but given up hope too until the day you ran through the gate.

I hope you like this story. If you do please let me know...again I have no idea where this came from but the idea sank its fangs in and won't let me go. If you enjoy please comment, kudo, send me shirtless Naga Copia and Terzo for reasons. If you like this I will see about turning it into a series for our favorite brothers (THEY ARE BROTHERS TOBIAS.)

You can read it here at AO3 as well.

The air was burning in your lungs as you ran.  The bandits had attacked the carriage without mercy.  Even the horses were slaughtered, the ground stained red with their blood and two of your other passengers who had met their fates quickly.  You’d seen an opportunity while two of the murderers started arguing over who got the first crack at you.  You’d seen the writing on the wall immediately, either raped or murdered…or both.  You’d ran into the trees and didn’t look back. 

You could hear them stomping through the brush, boots not even trying to keep quiet as what sounded like three of them chased after you.  You clung to the bag strapped over your chest as limbs and branches slapped against your body, cutting your skin and grabbing your clothes. 

This was supposed to be the new start for you.  Going to a new town, a new land after the loss of your family.  You were the eldest daughter, never married, never courted really.  Now with 40 plus years of having been the one to take care of your parents when your sister died, you’d been given a choice.  Sell the little printing house your father had built and actually live your life or find yourself tied to his business partner in marriage. 

You weren’t the type to be chosen as a good wife.  You knew how to read for one as well as write.  You enjoyed it actually and enjoyed writing stories as much as reading them.  You’d gotten along with many of the historians and writers who came to the print shop.  It was a place you thrived.  Even though Horace, your fathers partner, wasn’t thrilled with how your father allowed you to learn so much.  That wasn’t the norm for women…he was willing to overlook these “faults.”  He felt duty bound to help you, hence his not so enthusiastic marriage proposal. 

Horace was nearly 75 years old.  Even though you were considered an old maid at this point…you couldn’t see yourself in any way shape or form marrying him.  So you’d made it simple.  You’d sold the business, the house, and took your money along with a few possessions and headed towards the rest of your life.  A life that had been sheltered except when it came to your imagination. 

And now, here you were.  Running for your life wasn’t on your wish list of things to experience but it would appear you had no choice in the matter.  One particularly thick branch slammed into your forehead, and you nearly blacked out.  You caught yourself on the forest floor, hand to your head.  It came away sticky with blood.  The sound of boots was coming closer.  You needed to find somewhere to hide. 

You weren’t familiar with where you were.  In fact you had no idea where in the journey you’d been ambushed.  All you knew was that you couldn’t stay where you were.  You stumbled to your feet; grateful you had gone with pants and not a dress or you’d be tripping over yourself no doubt.  You were dizzy but determined.  You started forward again. 

The trees started thinning out slightly and then as you looked up from the dirt and leafy forest floor you saw it.  It was a giant wall with a large black iron gate.  Beyond the wall you could see what looked like a castle but for some reason reminded you more of an enormous church sitting atop a hill.  Below it, where the gate would open up was a massive garden and orchard. 

You leaned heavily against a smaller tree as you stared into the darkness of the garden and foliage.  Maybe whoever lived inside would help you.  Maybe…or maybe you would be better off taking your chances with the forest.  Exhaustion clawed at you, your head throbbed, and the adrenaline rush of the chase was abating and letting you feel every ache that it had left you with.  The faces of the other passengers as they were shot in front of you were burned into your minds eye.  You may not know who was beyond the gate, but you knew what was after you.  “The gate…” you said to yourself and pushed away from the tree.

When you got to the black iron gate you saw the spikes sitting atop it, sharp and deadly.  No one would be climbing in that was for sure.  Squinting you read the letters that were set within the iron EDEN’S SHADOW.  There was no chain or lock on the gate but as you tried to push it open, it wouldn’t budge.  After two more attempts you looked closer…there was nothing physical causing it to lock.  But you noticed some glyphs engraved within the metal. 

Magic.  God damn it.  You weren’t as familiar with it as some were.  Mainly because your parents and the village weren’t fans at all.  “God is the only magic we need child.”  You sighed.  You’d read what books you could of course and in time you’d come to the conclusion that God and Magic were connected.  Or at least magic could get you closer to the god of your choice.  But sadly it was one subject you weren’t as well versed in and now…well that was coming back to bite you in the ass.

If this was a church though, beyond the garden and trees, maybe the gate would let you in if you asked for sanctuary.  Right now it was your only chance. 

“Please…” You said softly, desperately as you leaned close to where a lock would be.  “I need help.  I…I need to hide.  Please help me.”

A heartbeat passed and then another.  Suddenly a loud groan of unused screws moving hit your ears and you jerked back as the gate slowly swung open.  You glanced back into the forest worriedly, then ducked through the open gate.  It closed behind you faster than it opened with a nerve shattering clank of finality.  The shadows seemed darker now on this side of the wall, the air warmer and scented with flowers and fruit.  Apples you thought.

You quickly moved further into the grounds, not wanting to be visible if your pursuers happened to find you here.  The gate might open for them too, who knew.  And you didn’t want to be standing there in easy shot range of their weapons.  It wasn’t more than 30 seconds later that you heard the rustling of the branches and trees outside of the gate.  You quickly moved to hide behind a tree, ducking down and peering through some bushes at the entrance.

There stood two of the bandits, dirty clothes on their backs and weapons in hand.  The two had faces that looked haggard and lined, some teeth missing.  You’d known the road could be dangerous but never would have guessed you’d run into men like these. 

The one who was balding and had stringy, greasy hair that fell to his shoulders looked around.  “Fucking hell.”  He muttered as he saw the black iron gate.  “This is the cursed place.”

The other man, tall and thin and obviously younger turned to look at him with brown, nearly black eyes.  “What are you talking about?”

“Eden’s Shadow…you’ve never heard the fucking story?”  The older man turned, giving a wary glance at the land beyond the gate.

You grew concerned as you heard this.  Cursed?  You’d just blindly walked into a land that was cursed?  Great….this was getting better by the minute.

“What story?” the younger ruffian asked.

“The Church.  The brothers.  The Goddess.  It’s been around for…well…at least a century.”  The older bandit looked up towards the large building.  “The legends say Lilith wasn’t pleased by the family who lead the church and she cursed them.  Heathens the lot of them, dark magic and the like.  No one who goes in there comes out again.”

You swallowed down a knot of fear in your throat.  Had you just ensured your own destruction? 

The younger man glared into the dark.  “Horseshit.”  He said, his voice rough and angry.  “I bet she’s in there.  There’s nowhere else for her to go.”

“You willing to risk it being true for a bit of rough?”  The older man asked, raising a scarred brow.

“She’s pissed me off and made us run through this fucking forest for a mile.  She’s earned a good pounding.”  His companion replied. 

You couldn’t just sit there and wait for them.  You started backing up slowly, trying your best to be quiet.  You’d made it a couple yards before your foot found a stick, cracking it so loudly it could have been a muzzle blast.  They definitely heard it, and you caught a glimpse of them making for the gate. 

They started jangling the black iron, trying to get it open.  Maybe it would stay closed.  Oh god you hoped it did.  But you needed to move fast.  Before you could do so though something dark and nebulous came out of the shadows.  You didn’t even have a chance to scream before what seemed to be the shadows themselves wrapped around you and pulled you behind a large and fat blossomed rose bush.  The darkness held you by your arms, one strand wrapping around your mouth and the other around your legs so you couldn’t move if you wanted to.  You could only watch as to your horror the gate opened.

The men seemed as surprised as you were terrified.  They had their eyes wide and weapons in hand as they moved inside.  As you watched, it looked like the already deep shadows of the garden seemed to darken.  It was nearly nightfall, and the sky above was deepening to a rich purple.  Any other time it would have been beautiful to watch, but right then if the cloud of black wasn’t holding you upright you would have buckled in fear.  You hated feeling helpless, but right then there wasn’t much else you could do.  Whatever it was holding onto you wasn’t releasing you.

“I don’t like this.”  The older bandit said, his gaze flicking around the path they were walking. 

“You know she’s in here…I heard her.”  The younger one replied, viciousness in his expression.  “Come out woman…it’ll make it easier on you if you do.”  He said loudly.

From the darkness came a strange noise, almost a hiss, very nearly a growl.  It made the two bandits pause.  “What the fuck was that?”  The older one asked. 

The younger man’s bravado won out.  “Probably just an animal.  It doesn’t matter.  Let’s find the bitch.” 

At this, there was a rustle of leaves followed by a another strange hissing noise.  As you watched you saw a flicker of something between the branches.  It was white and caught the light of the moon that was just breaking through the clouds.  It glinted like a pearl for a moment and disappeared.  You pulled at the ephemeral bonds that held you and still couldn’t move. 

The two men were now getting closer to where you were.  You tried to scoot away but you were still held tight.  The young one glanced your way, and you know he saw you as a sick grin spread over his face.  “Well…lookit here…just waiting by the roses.”  He said, moving quickly in your direction. 

“What’s…what’s that on her?”  The other man asked, heavy brow furrowing. 

“I don’t care; I’ll be on her soon though.”  The tall one said, taking another step.  

And that’s when it happened.  As you watched it looked as though some black, thick vine came down from the tree he was near, wrapping around him quickly and tossing him aside into the trunk of another tree like he was weightless.

The older bandit let out a scream as he looked up into the leaves of the tree.  He fell backwards, scrambling across the leaf covered ground.  You couldn’t see what he was seeing, the shadows not letting you go still.  But his eyes were wide, filled with fear, and he was mumbling incoherently. 

In the next moment you watched as a shape fell gracefully from the branches.  When it stood up you saw the outline of a man, seemingly tall.  When the moonlight broke through another cloud your eyes widened as you took in the sight.  He was shirtless, that much you could see, his skin as white as alabaster.  

He glanced back at you for a brief moment, and you realized what you’d thought was a pearl was actually his left eye.  His right was darker and there wasn’t enough light for you to tell the color exactly.  His face appeared to be painted…black lips, black around his eyes and along his cheeks.  Your own eyes widened as you realized it was supposed to be a skull.  His hair seemed to be brown…but you couldn’t be sure.  His pale chest was covered in dark hair as well, but you couldn’t see beyond that. 

His eyes took in your position, narrowing at you for a moment before turning back to the bandits.  “You…tressspass…here?”  You heard him speak, the words carrying an accent you weren’t sure of and a strange sibilance to them.  You deduced the growl you’d heard was possibly of his making.

The older man seemed too scared to move now with the newcomer towering above him.  The younger man was now standing up, hand shaking where it held his gun.  “She came in here and she’s ours.  We’ll take her and be on our way.”  He managed to say without stuttering.

You heard a chuckle come from the pale man.  “She’sss yours?”  he asked, disbelief in every letter. 

“Fucking right she is.”  The bravado was coming fast now from the younger one.  The older bandit had tears in his eyes.

The painted face smiled, but it wasn’t in amusement.  There was something decidedly deadly about the way he was watching the two men.  “She doesn’t seem to be inclined to believe you ssstronzo.”  He said. 

“She doesn’t have a choice.  We’re taking her.”  The young man’s voice shook for only a moment. 

As you watched the pale man’s expression changed.  If he looked deadly before he was downright murderous now.  “You take away her choice?  You threaten her here?”  His voice was low, the r’s rippling with a menace within the words. 

The older man had managed to back away enough he was trying to stand, the younger was moving closer to a fate you doubted was going to be a happy one.  “I’ve had enough of this...we’re taking her now.”  The wide-eyed bandit fired his pistol. 

You let out a muffled shriek at this but as you watched the pale figure moved faster than you’d ever seen a person move.  He dodged the bullet which hit the trunk of a tree near you.  His eyes met yours again as he saw how close it came to you.  You would swear that the white eye glowed in that moment, the other burning with a green flame.  Then he turned back to the man who’d fired. 

The pale man growled and lunged at him.  The older man had finally found his footing and promptly fell again when the force of the pale man’s attack hit him as well.  He was so quick it was almost a blur and that’s when you finally saw him, as the moon in all it’s glory came out from beneath the clouds completely. 

He was holding the young bandit up off the ground, his hands grasping the filthy jacket.  His fingernails were black, nearly long enough to be claws.  He was muscled but not in the way so many of the villagers men wanted to be.  His waist narrowed down with just a bit of stomach which shared the same dark hair that covered and tapered down his chest.  But where his hips should become legs there were none. 

Instead, the man’s body turned into a long, serpent tail.  The scales of which glowed under the moonlight, a brilliant blue that seemed to almost glitter like a diamond would.  It was at least five feet long and combined with the rest of him he was nearly nine feet tall.  He held the bandit like he weighed nothing.   

“You dare attack someone who came to me for sssanctuary…”  The snake man rasped at the man who now appeared to finally realize just how fucked he truly was.  As you watched the pale face snarled, showing sharp and glinting fangs that were soon buried in the neck of the bandit. 

The man screamed and it was filled with agony.  Before your eyes his face blackened, the veins in his flesh appearing beneath his skin in dark lines as if filling with some sort of poison to the point of bursting.  In the back of your frightened mind you thought “It’s venom…”

The older bandit’s eyes were wide, and tears were flowing down his cheeks.  Not in sorrow at the loss of his partner, but in complete and mindless terror.  A wet patch grew in the front of his pants, and you knew he’d soiled himself.

The snake man pulled his fangs from his victims throat, the body limp and discolored in his grasp.  Some black fluid fell down his chin, still leaking from his fangs.  He turned to the older man and smiled.  “I believe thisss is yoursss.”  He said and then flung the body at him. 

The body landing next to him seemed to awaken him from a stupor and the older man let out a scream and then ran towards the entrance.  For one moment you thought that it would shut on him, locking him in with you and this creature you’d never even imagined could exist.  But no, he fled through the gate which then shut behind him, all while being watched by the pale figure that was wiping it’s mouth on the back of its hand. 

You were too afraid to even move now.  You had no idea what was happening, but you were fairly certain that even if the shadow bonds that held you were loosened you wouldn’t be able to open the gate.  Your head was throbbing, and your vision was starting to blur as everything that you’d witnessed, the chase, it was too much. 

The snake turned to you then, just as the shadows decided to let you go.   You caught yourself on the small trunk of a young apple tree, black spots swimming into view.  He blinked at you, his shining blue tail pushing him a little closer. 

It was as though he was hesitating, trying not to frighten you now.  Which, it was a little late for that.  You’d seen him just inject a man with toxin to the point his veins nearly ripped out of his skin.  But you’d heard him speak and the words weren’t threats to you but to the ones trying to hurt you.  You took a step backwards when he moved another bit closer, one hand trying to hold onto the tree the other pressed against your throbbing head. 

“Please…please…don’t…” You managed to say, feeling bile rise in your throat.  The world was spinning and the pain in your head was getting worse.

The creature ducked under a limb of a nearby tree, his eyes watching you warily.  “Bella, I will not hurt you…I ssswear.”  His voice was soft now and was that a stutter, just there.  Almost nervous.

You couldn’t believe him…right?  You needed to try and run…but to where?  The bandits were still out there, and you had no transportation.  You didn’t even know where you were.  No…you knew.  You were in Eden.  This was the garden of Eden.  No, the shadow of Eden.  Then that meant he was…

You couldn’t finish the thought.  Your legs buckled beneath you, and you prayed you weren’t going to throw up your meager lunch.  Before you hit the ground you heard a rushing sound, something moving quickly over the ground, through the leaves and twigs.  You felt arms grabbing you, wiry and strong, stopping you from falling to the earth.  “Ti ho bellissima…ho te.” 

You looked up to see his skull painted face looking down at you, your cheek resting against his white chest.  You tried to push away but another wave of pain and dizziness made you gasp.  “I need…to…go…” you tried to say, the words barely audible. 

“Sssei malato. Ci prenderemo cura di te.”  He spoke again, voice gentler as he slipped an arm under your legs and lifted you up like you were a feather.  You weren’t light by any stretch and how easily he did so made you tense up.  You had no idea what he was saying either…which was only adding to your fear. 

“Please…please let me go.”  You tried again, palms against his chest.  He was warm to the touch which surprised you. 

He shook his head no, locks of his brown hair falling over his forehead from where it had been swept away.  He was moving across the ground now, the large blue tail fast as he moved upwards towards the hillside.  His arms clutched you closer, tighter as he started up the steep slope.  When he spoke again, you understood him, but it seemed as though he wasn’t used to the language.  “I…I can’t let you go sorella.  I…I must tend to you, and you must rest.”  He glanced down at you, and he gave you a small smile, melancholy evident in his now softer eyes.  “You are sssafe with me.  I promise you.”

You didn’t have a choice here.  You were hurt and you were in no condition to try and run.  Out of the human males you’d encountered the very obviously not (at least completely) human one was the only one who hadn’t tried to kill you.  Your head fell back against his chest, and you noticed the scent of flowers and something sweet like honey seemed to come from his skin.  “What…who…are you…”  You managed to mumble out.  Your eyes were so heavy. 

He'd already made it up the hillside when you asked your question and now you heard the doors of the large building atop the hill opening.  “My name is Copia…” He replied.  You heard something rustling and with some effort opened your eyes to see figures emerging from the shadows.  They were all in black, with silver masks on their faces.  You could see eyes peering out from them, glancing at you then up at Copia.

He quickly said something in that other language you didn’t understand.  Was it…Italia?  Or something older?  You couldn’t tell but the new arrivals started moving right away, Copia following them, the sound of his scales swishing along the marble floor.  He glanced back down at you.  “What I am…that’s a long story bella.  Think of me as the guardian of the garden, the serpent protecting the trees.”  Another sad smile.  “Protecting Eve from those who would harm her.”

You find yourself in a room filled with glass cases and a couple of beds.  Was this a hospital?  The figures in black were moving around, three of them in the room with you.  Copia slipped in through the doorway with a grace that was well…inhuman.  With care he laid you down on one of the beds.  One of the silver masked attendants came over to you and carefully removed your bag from your shoulder and your jacket.  You tried to hold onto the bag; it was everything you had in the world now.  But you were weak, and it was pointless to try and fight. 

Copia slid up to the bed, his black tipped fingers taking hold of yours without much fuss.  “Sssshhh.  It’s alright.  It will be right over there.”  He gestured to a chair where the bag and your jacket were placed. 

You looked up at him with pain filled eyes.  The expression on his face was kind, so unlike what you’d seen before when he’d fought the bandit.  He brushed aside some hair from your forehead, brows narrowing at the wound there that was bleeding.  “You must rest bella.  Let us take care of you.  You are sssafe here.” 

“I’m…scared.”  You couldn’t stop the words from escaping your lips.  You shuddered as the shock truly took hold of you then. 

Copia used the tip of his tail to grasp a nearby blanket from a stack of them.  He placed it over you, tucking it in around you.  “I know cara…but you are sssafe now.”  He tilted his head slightly taking in your face, the color of your eyes.  He hadn’t seen a human woman in…a long time.  “What is your name bella?”  He asked at last. 

The warmth of the blanket helped.  You didn’t realize that one of the silver masked figures had a syringe until you felt the pinch of it in your arm.  More warmth then slipped into your veins.  It made the unease lessen and you just wanted to sleep then, more than anything.  “My name…”

“Si, cara…what’s your name?”  Copia took a warm washcloth and wiped away some of the grime from your cheek carefully. 

You gave it to him, barely conscious as the sedative did its work and the pleasant feeling of the cloth wiping away at the dirt soothed you. 

He repeated it, his accent and the sibilant way he spoke making it sound far more musical than you’d ever heard it.  “Un nome bello come te.”  

You had no idea what he was saying again, but it didn’t really matter.  You were sinking into the dark then, your eyes growing heavy as they looked into his mismatched gaze.  “Are you going to tempt me…” you asked without thinking before falling into oblivion. 

Copia’s black lips parted at the question, his forked tongue tutting against his teeth.  He brushed the cloth along your chin, watching the way your pink lips parted just a bit at the movement.  “Oh dolcezza…you are the temptation here.”  He said softly, with the conviction of a man who has accepted his fate.

[mx-pastelwriting]

me: feeling like I'm using the words your and you too much, but I'm fucking writing in the second person.

[avocado-writing]

worship

I just joined this fandom and unfortunately have gone insane for this man. It’s my first Ghost fanfic so please be kind, sorry if it’s ooc, I’m still learning! Ty to @lady-jane3 for proofreading! (sorry for bad Italian)

rating: e

words: 1.2k

tags: smut throughout (p in v)

How you both live for these nights. 

These nights where the sky is a dark velvet, its richness only exaggerated by the candles you light around the bedroom. The intimate caress of this chamber for just the two of you. This place is a sanctum, an altar, a place of worship.

The object of that worship being your lover’s body is a pivotal part of the ministrations. It’s what He would want for you, after all.

You remember when you first started these trysts. He was, of course, just Copia back then: awkward and fumbling and oh so sweet. How couldn’t you be drawn to him? You’d been friends before anything else, gravitating towards each other as the quieter ones in your classes. Him opening up like a flower as you chatted over coffee afterwards, revealing the petals of his soul under your soft scrutiny. Coaxing out that beautiful crooked smile of his, the one he was too bashful about to reveal in front of others in fear it would make him seem silly. 

And, well, he was a bit silly. But in a way you came to adore.

You’d spent more nights than you could recall chasing him down the empty halls on his damned tricycle, the two of you breathless with laughter. Then one night you’d tumbled into his lap and he’d looked down at you, smile faltering on his lips as the mood changed to something far more intense; and he’d kissed you, breaking the rosy tension.

You’d buried your hand in his robes and tugged him closer. Run your hand along his jaw. Swallowed the moans that spilled into your mouth. Lay there on the floor when you realised your desperate bodies couldn’t hold you up any more, legs tangling together like a couple of hormone-heady teenagers. 

“Copia…” the choke of his name from your lips had made him growl. “Your quarters are closest, yes?”

It took him a moment to register what you meant, but when he did his pupils swelled to nearly eclipse the colour in his eyes. 

“Sì. Yes, Satan. Let’s go.”

That first worship has been full of wandering, squeezing hands and awkward kisses as you mapped out each other’s bodies. He’d cum far too quickly and he looked like he wanted to evaporate from this mortal coil, the red blossoming on his cheeks and invading his entire face. Tried to stutter out an apology but you’d pressed your lips to his and encouraged him to caress you until he was hard again.

It was messy, exploring, perfect. The smooth slide of his cock into your needy cunt, his thrusts getting surer and surer as he worked out what made you mewl. How could anything ever top this?

The two of you never worshipped with anyone else after that.

He became cardinal next. Of course he did; you never had any doubt, he was so sincere in his faith. You’d lain with Copia to show the Dark One your joy at his elevation. You remember the way he held your arms behind your back and bounced you on his length, pulling out to the tip before slamming back home. You’d thrown your hair back exposing the long line of your throat to him, encouraging him to bite, to mark. Oh, how he did.

“Sei uno spettacolo,” he’d muttered, eyes transfixed on you as if you were some holy symbol at which to prostrate himself. Perhaps, to him, you were. How could you ever deny him? He held your body and your heart by now. 

Then, however, he was put in charge of the Ghost project. And he was gone for weeks on end. Your duties kept you at the monastery, and oh, it was such torture. Phone calls rambling long into the night where you talked about nothing, anything. Occasionally dipping into phone sex when the urge got too great, getting off to each other’s voices was never the same…. but it meant that when he returned things were that much more satisfying. You practically ripped his cassock off, kissing messily down his pale chest, taking his nipples into your mouth and biting until he groaned. Not finishing that night until you were covered in his seed, him sticky with your release. Sleeping in til noon the next day and only rising when a Sibling came to bring you both breakfast, squeaking in surprise at the messy tangle they’d caught you in.

It got worse when he was made Papa. For a while, anyway. Less time together. More longing. Oh, that awful, soul-wrenching longing. Tumbling into each other’s arms when he returned, then into bed when your bodies couldn’t hold it back any longer. Joining flesh in worship. Pinning him down onto the mattress with such force that he wept your name in pleasure by the time you were done with him.

And then… this. Frater. Different, administrative. At the monastery practically permanently. Though he couldn’t hide his disdain at not being with the band the blow was somewhat softened by the plush of your legs spread open whenever the two of you desired. Now you can worship for as long as you want, as often as you feel the urge. 

You feel the urge a lot. Just you and him. Perfection. 

Really it has long since gone past worship. It is just about being with the man you love… though, you could ask, what is holier than being one flesh with the head of His clergy? 

“Your mind is, eh, wandering, amore?”

The candles flicker warm orange light across his face. Your lover is kissing along the plain of your stomach; he’s already luxuriated between your legs, your thighs decorated in black paint smeared from his lip. You laugh gently - he can always tell when something dances across your thoughts. There’s no hiding from your Copia.

“I was thinking about you, love. Us. How lucky I am.”

He’s pleased with that, his face lighting up. He surges forwards to kiss you and you can taste your release on his tongue, tangy and sweet. 

“I’m the lucky one, I think. You’re the most beautiful thing in the world and the Dark One let me have you all to myself…”

You feel his cock press against you and you gasp, you always gasp, in anticipation of how he will make you feel. He presses inside you in one thrust and your body eagerly accepts him, his forehead falling to meet yours as he begins to slowly move inside you. He meets that sweet spot buried in your walls and your arms slip around his neck, bringing him closer.

One flesh, one soul. In these moments he is not Cardinal, nor Papa, nor Frater. He is just your Copia. 

A firm hand runs along your leg and he crooks it upwards, allowing himself to push impossibly deeper. You moan into his mouth.

“Copia…”

It isn’t a question but he replies anyway.

“Yes, always.”

He floods you with his release, making you throw your head back in ecstasy. When his cock finishes throbbing he doesn’t pull out, and you remain in an intimate embrace as you kiss him. Eventually he will grow hard again and you will continue - even as a self professed ‘old man’, your body can still get his engine running. He whispers your name like it’s a mantra, a prayer. You grin against his lips.

“My Copia.”

And he is.

[inkstainedrat]

every single time I come home from the longest day ever and there isn’t a satanic clergyman lying in my bed-

that hurts my m o t h e r f u c k i n g f e e l i n g s

[dodgemaxson]

Pictures of Copia That make me 🤭🤭🤭

I want to bit him

[cowboyemeritus]

“I don’t think I can do this.”

You look up from your phone. Perpetua is staring at himself in the bathroom mirror, inspecting his new purple, sequined jacket with a frown. His mask and pots of paint sit off to the side, waiting to be put on, but for now, he's bare-faced. You share his displeasure; the article reminds you far too much of his shithead brother, who needed three of them, for some reason. Marika had insisted that some continuity, something familiar for the fans, was necessary for the new tour cycle to affirm his role as the new Papa. He may not bear the Emeritus name, but Perpetua is still a member of the Bloodline, still one of the sons of Nihil, even if he didn’t know it until very recently.

You sigh, meeting his eyes in the mirror and giving him a sympathetic look.

“It’s okay to be nervous.”

He worries his bottom lip between his teeth. “This is more than nervous. This is…” The look of utter despair in his eyes makes your gut twist. Perpetua shakes his head. His breathing is starting to come faster, heavier. “I- I can’t do this. I can’t.” He’s trembling.

You rise from your seat on the edge of the bathtub. In an instant, your arms are around him, your chest flush with his back.

“You can’t back out now, babe.” The show is sold out, the buses already parked outside of the area and ready to unload for tomorrow’s ritual. Maybe it’s not the best thing to say, but you’ve come to learn that sometimes, all he needs is a little tough love. “But you’ve been rehearsing this thing for months. You’ve already done it.”

He swallows hard. “This is different. All those people-”

“Are going to love you. They already love you.” You plant a kiss between his shoulder blades, delighting in the way it makes him shudder. “Not more than me, though.” He lets out a little laugh through his nose, and you’re so relieved you could cry. It’s working; you just need to push a little harder.

“No, definitely not.”

You rest your chin on his shoulder, gazing at him in the mirror. Despite your dislike of the jacket, you can’t deny that he looks fucking amazing in it. With the paints and the mask, it’s a deadly combination. His heart is still hammering beneath your palm, and so you drag your fingertips up and down his chest, trying to soothe him.

“A year ago, you were a high school band teacher.” He gives you a pointed look. You know he loved that job. “Nothing wrong with that, but look at you now. You’re a rockstar. You’re Papa.” You lock eyes with him in the mirror. His cheeks are already flushed a beautiful pink. “You’re Him, babe. You’ve made it.”

Perpetua watches the movement of your hand closely. “They’ll be expecting someone like Copia,” he mumbles. “Someone loud. That’s just not who I am.” You glower, tasting the bile of your hatred for Frater Imperator, whose downfall has become a sort of maladaptive daydream of yours. He’s the only man alive to whom Perpetua could turn to for advice, for some reassurance about his new job, but he’s chosen to act like a spoiled child, rebuffing him every chance he gets. Your beloved doesn’t show it, but you know the incident with the Twitter banner, as ridiculous a stunt it was, shook him pretty badly. It hurts him, knowing his long-lost twin hates his guts for no good reason, for simply daring to exist in the same space as him. For that, you’ll make the old bastard suffer… one of these days.

“If you ask me, that guy is a little too loud.” Your hand starts to trail lower, dancing across the planes of his stomach. The muscles twitch, and you delight in it, always having loved how ticklish he is. “You, though? Very mindful. Very demure.” Perpetua rolls his eyes at this, but the corners of his mouth turn upwards a little. When your fingertips brush against the button of his pants, you glance back up in a silent petition to allow you to continue. He gives you the most minute nod of his head, something sparking in his eyes, and that’s all you need. “You’re you. And you’re going to be amazing.”

Finally, he gives you a sheepish smile, head tilting to the side to rest against yours. “I appreciate your confidence in me, dearest, but-” In a swift motion, you pop the button open, and he sucks in a harsh breath. You’re pleased to find him hardening up as you pull down the zipper and reach in, palming at him through his underwear. He groans, the sound rumbling against your chest.

“No buts.” You give him a little squeeze, reveling in the way his entire body tenses up. Sparing a look upwards, you see he has his eyes shut. “You need to see this,” you purr. “Open those pretty eyes for me.” Hesitantly, Perpetua complies. If it weren’t for all the blood rushing downstairs, you’re certain his face would be beet red by now; he gets so adorably shy sometimes. You smile devilishly, stroking him a few times before your fingers hook under the waistband of his briefs, tugging them down just enough to free him from their confines. Taking him in hand, you start jacking him at a leisurely pace, pulling back the foreskin to reveal the tip, glistening with precum and nearing purple already. Your mouth waters, yearning for a taste, but you have an agenda to fulfill.

“Look at this perfect cock,” you command. Biting his lip, he complies. “You have no idea how many people want it already. A few photos and music videos, and they’re gagging for you, babe.”

“I wouldn’t-” Your other hand comes down to cradle his balls, and through gritted teeth, he moans. “You’re the only one I want.” In spite of the circumstances, it makes your heart flutter, keeping you steady in your resolve. He’s far too sweet, far too good to you; it would be criminal to just let him wallow in his anxiety for the rest of the evening.

“Oh, baby. What did I ever do to deserve you?” You fondle his sac as you continue to stroke him, feeling its weight and the way it’s already tightening up for you. He must be really keyed up — it’s further proof that he needed this. “My perfect man.” Turning your head, you plant a kiss on his neck, then lean in to whisper in his ear. “Papa V Perpetua. First of his name. A frontman unlike any before him.” You nip at his earlobe playfully, snickering, and he jolts. “You’re gonna take the Project to new heights, your Unholiness.” Upping the ante, you pick up the pace of your strokes, twisting your wrist while your other hand gently squeezes him, just how you know he likes. “It’s going to be fucking incredible.”

“Okay, okay, okay.” Perpetua hisses, head falling back against his shoulder, and you know from experience that means he’s close. “Whatever you say. Just-” He has to bite down on his fist to stifle a moan. “Fuck, it’s going to get everywhere.” You just chuckle.

“You’re Papa now. Make a mess. It’s your birthright.”

He lets out a shaky breath, hips jerking with a few abortive thrusts. Encouraging him, you tighten your grip around his shaft until he’s fully fucking your fist, chest heaving and moaning softly, like he’s being touched for the first time. He’s beautiful like this, cheeks all rosy and his face contorted with pleasure. He is a vision, the spirit of Lilith incarnate. It makes your own neglected arousal pound between your legs, but this isn’t about you. This is about hyping him up.

With a final flick of your wrist, Perpetua comes undone, cock throbbing as it shoots a few ropes of spend across the counter and into the sink. He moans, groans, shakes like a leaf in the wind, and all the while you hold him close, keeping him steady through it. When his climax finally ebbs away you don’t let go, basking in the glory of the moment. Though you’re not still working him, overstimulation quickly sets in, and he begins to squirm uncomfortably, snapping you out of your reverie. With an apologetic look, you release him, and he steps aside, awkwardly maneuvering around you so that you can get to the sink and rinse your sticky hands.

“Feeling better?” Perpetua nods, tucking his softening cock away. There’s the smallest splotch of cum on his pants, and he stares at it with a worried expression. He reaches for a towel, but you stop him, gently grasping at his wrist. “I’ll take care of it.” Grabbing the waistband, you tug the garment down, prompting him to step out of them. He looks rather silly, in just his dress shirt, sparkly jacket, and undies, and you can’t help but huff out a little laugh. Then, you rise up on your tiptoes, planting a kiss on his forehead. “Go get ready for bed. You need to rest.”

“But-”

“No buts,” you exclaim, “except that sweet ass of yours wobbling on stage tomorrow!” You give him another kiss, this time on the lips. “I’ll join you soon, okay?” He nods again, and though there’s still a faraway look in his eyes, he smiles. Your heart swells, knowing he means it. 

“Okay, babe.” Then he shuffles past you, out of the bathroom and towards the bedroom. Before he’s completely out of sight, though, he pops back into the doorway. “I wouldn’t have made it this far without you, you know.” You wave him off, scoffing.

“Oh, please. I’d be dead in a ditch by now if it weren’t for you.” He just laughs, and then disappears.

He can do this. And if he won’t believe in himself, then you will. You always will.

[ficandkaboodle]

Just…

Riding Copia. The soft of his tummy jiggling with every slap of your body coming down to meet his. The tangling of fingers into the hairy thicket of his chest. And when he slurs that he’s getting close, to come with him, oh, to trail a hand down the path created by his hair, ending where you are united to play with yourself in order to catch up.

Only for him to snarl and move your fingers, knowing you can’t bring yourself up to speed the way he can. He grabs your hips and forces you into a grind, dragging your clit against the thatch of curls. The evil smirk he manages as you whine, knowing damn well that while the stimulation is not undesirable, it’s not what you seek, what you NEED to climb the mountaintop with him.

When he’s had enough of your pouting, his fingers result your work. A high-pitched keen that fails to become the words you mean to utter escape you as you arch your back and nearly fall on top of him, only able to catch yourself on wobbly arms as your palms press into the mattress on either side of his head.

It’s a fight to keep drooling from slipping through your moaning lips as you feel his fingers take your clit between them, rolling the sorry bud before giving it firm jerks through its tender hood — almost as though he were returning the very favor you’d granted his cock earlier in the evening.

Yes, leave all the hard work to your Papa. Be a good girl and do as Papa says and all you wish will be yours for the taking…